


Tony Stark's Guide to Cat-Sitting

by wedelia



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - MCU Steve and Tony are friends, Fluff, I wrote this like three years ago and just found it in my wip folder, M/M, Magical kittens, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedelia/pseuds/wedelia
Summary: “That’s a cat,” says Tony, eyes fixed on Steve’s hands like they’re cradling a ticking bomb instead of a kitten.“Yes,” Steve agrees. “It is.”





	Tony Stark's Guide to Cat-Sitting

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my unfinished drafts folder since I wrote it in early 2015, a simpler time. If the characterization feels a bit off and the scenes seem a little disconnected, that may be part of the reason why.

“That’s a cat,” says Tony, eyes fixed on Steve’s hands like they’re cradling a ticking bomb instead of a kitten.

“Yes,” Steve agrees. “It is.”

He scratches behind the cat’s ear and it purrs, nudging its little head into the palm of his hand. Tony watches Steve and takes note of how Steve’s eyes go all soft and fond when he’s looking at the kitten -- which they never do when he’s looking at Tony. (What? He’s not jealous. Pfft.)

“Her name’s Peggy,” Steve says, offering his finger for the kitten to play with and seeming totally enamored when she bats at it with her tiny kitten paws. He smiles a bright warm happy smile and turns bright warm happy eyes toward Tony and, wow, maybe it’s a good thing that Tony doesn’t see this side of Steve very often. He feels like his heart just grew three sizes; that can’t be healthy.

“I have an aunt named Peggy,” says Tony, for lack of anything else to say. “She used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Steve’s smile falters. Tony immediately regrets whatever he said to cause that reaction.  _ It was probably the S.H.I.E.L.D. thing,  _ he thinks, ruefully.  _ Steve isn’t exactly S.H.I.E.L.D.’s biggest fan. _

“Where did you get the cat?” Tony asks, changing the topic. He wants to send the universe a Thank You card for whatever sequence of events led to this moment. Steve Rogers holding a kitten is a mental image Tony never knew he needed.

“I found her in a cardboard box while I was jogging and thought she could use a good home,” Steve says, because of course he did.

Then he frowns and says, “Can you watch her for me, Tony? I need to go buy cat supplies and I don’t want to leave her in my apartment by herself.”

And, because he’s Tony, and Tony can’t say no to Steve when he’s got that earnest, well-meaning look in his eyes, Tony finds himself with a handful of purring kitten and no idea what to do with it.

He eyes the kitten dubiously. The kitten eyes Tony dubiously back. She’s clearly upset that he’s not Steve, and Tony doesn’t blame her. He gets it; compared to Captain America, Tony Stark is a disappointment. 

“I guess your name is Peggy, huh?” Tony says, finally, as a kind of truce.

Peggy meows. It doesn’t sound like the meow of a feline scorned, so Tony figures he’s off to a good start. 

 

Ten minutes later,  _ off to a good start  _ has escalated into  _ oh no, the cat’s dangling from the chandelier!  _ and, considering that Tony hadn’t even known that there was a chandelier in his living room before today, that’s not a good sign.

He looks away for a minute to do a quick Google search for  _ How to get a cat off of a chandelier fast  _ and then, when he glances back up, Peggy is no longer on the chandelier. “JARVIS,” Tony calls, trying his best to keep calm, “Where did the cat go?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” JARVIS says, regretfully. “I can’t find her on any of the surveillance cameras.”

_ This can’t be happening _ , Tony thinks. 

Then he thinks another string of words that I can’t repeat here without affecting the PG rating. 

 

“Rhodey,” says Tony, panicked, into his phone. “You’ve been on rescue missions before, right? Do you know how to lead one?”

“What’s this about, Tony?” Rhodey asks. He’s trying to decide whether he should be concerned or just slightly exasperated, like he usually is when Tony tries to pull him into shenanigans. (Not that Rhodey doesn’t enjoy being part of a good shenanigan, every now and then -- he wouldn’t go along with them so often if he didn’t.)

“I lost Steve’s cat,” says Tony. While he says it, his eyes are darting around the room, as if Peggy will pop out from behind a couch or something any second now and put him out of his misery.

“Steve has a cat?” Rhodey asks, a note of surprise in his voice. “Since when?”

“Since this morning,” says Tony.

“And you already lost it,” Rhodey says, amused in a way that Tony really doesn’t appreciate.

He makes an impatient noise and says, “That’s not important, Rhodey. What’s important is that she’s _lost_ and I need to find her before Steve gets back to the Tower and realizes that she’s gone. Can you help me? **”**

There’s a long pause before Rhodey clears his throat and says, “Sorry, Tony, I already have plans for this afternoon.”

“Plans,” Tony repeats, deadpan. “What kind of plans?”

There’s another long pause. Then Rhodey says, “The date kind.”

“That’s great! _ ”  _ Tony says, smiling for the first time since this whole debacle began. “Good for you, buddy. Who’s your date?”

“Her name’s Carol,” says Rhodey. “We met through work. She may be a better pilot than I am, believe it or not. But don’t let her know that I said that. And she has a great sense of humor.” 

“I hope you guys have a nice time,” says Tony, sincerely. “She sounds amazing.”

Then the phone call ends and Tony’s back to square one. 

 

Two frantic hours and a phone call to Steve later, they find Peggy in the grass underneath a park bench, curled up next to another kitten that blinks blearily at them when they crouch down to get a closer look. 

Steve laughs and reaches out to scratch the soft fur behind the other kitten’s ear. “Peggy seems happy on her own,” he says, and there’s some kind of deeper meaning in his voice that goes right over Tony’s head. “I guess she didn’t really need me.”

Tony doesn’t fully understand what Steve’s talking about, but he knows enough to say, “That’s ridiculous.”

Steve’s head jerks up. “What?”

“When you found her, she had been left behind in a cardboard box to fend for herself,” Tony says. “She might have been able to survive on her own without you -- she’s a tough cat, she’d probably get by -- but here’s the thing: because of you, she doesn’t have to.”

Steve manages a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Tony.”

There’s a stretch of silence. Steve and Tony are both still crouching in front of the bench that the cats are lying under; the position’s starting to get uncomfortable. 

“Well,” says Tony, “let’s take them home.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Them?”

“I can’t separate those two in good conscience,” Tony says, nodding toward the kittens. The other cat bumps its nose against Peggy’s and Peggy starts to purr.

“Fair enough.”

“We should call her Angie,” Tony suggests. If Peggy is going to be named after one of Tony’s aunts, the other kitten should be, too. 

“Angie,” says Steve. Then he smiles. “I like it.”

As they walk back to Avengers Tower, each of them holding a kitten, Tony gets a phone call. He shifts Angie to his left hand to answer it. “Hello?”

Steve tries not to look like he’s watching as Tony goes quiet and mulls over whatever the person on the other end of the line is telling him, furrowing his brow the way he does when he’s planning upgrades for his armor. “I don’t know, Pepper,” says Tony, finally. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

There’s a silence as Pepper responds.

“I’ll think about it,” says Tony. Then he hangs up.

Angie squirms in Tony’s grip trying to rearrange herself into a more comfortable position.

“What was that about?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs. “Pepper wants me to visit a children’s hospital. You know, to help generate some good publicity for us after that S.H.I.E.L.D.-is-Hydra fiasco.”

    “And you don’t want to do it,” says Steve, watching Tony carefully for a reaction.

    “It’s not that I don’t want to help sick kids,” Tony says. “I’m just afraid that they’ll expect me to be more than I am and they’ll be crushed when they meet me and find out I’m just  _ me _ .”

_     I know a little something about that,  _ Steve thinks, but doesn’t say.

    “You should do it,” Steve does say. “The kids will be thrilled -- they all look up to you. You’re a great role model.”

    “I’m not a role model, Steve,” says Tony, vehement. “I’m a cautionary tale. An alcoholic playboy billionaire who can’t even watch a kitten for half an hour without losing it --”

    “And you’re also a genius philanthropist with a big heart,” says Steve. He’s looking at Tony with so much open affection that Tony honestly doesn’t know how to deal with it. He’s never been subject to such sincere admiration before. “You always underestimate yourself, Tony.”

    “Well, you always overestimate me,” Tony grumbles. Then, tentative, he adds, “I guess we’re a good match. Together we estimate me.”

      Steve smiles at him, and Tony smiles back.


End file.
